


Parks and Recreation

by livelyandcolorful



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: But Donna Emerson is not about to sit around while anxiety eats away at her girl, Cameron Howe has an anxiety disorder lbr, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Slapstick, Winter/Snow Fluff, a little blood, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:44:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livelyandcolorful/pseuds/livelyandcolorful
Summary: In December of 1998, Donna Emerson and Cameron Howe take a weekend trip to a national park. Hijinks, processing, and feelings ensue!





	Parks and Recreation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lisbethsalamanders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisbethsalamanders/gifts).



Donna came home from work that evening to find Cameron in the kitchen, standing at the island in her slouchy navy blue sweater, chewing on her left thumbnail as she read one of the computer science journals they subscribed to. The slow cooker Bos had pointedly given Cameron last Christmas sat on the counter next to her, a small cloud of steam wafting from the top of it. When she heard the click of Donna's heels, she looked up, sighed with relief, and smiled tentatively, before looking back down at the journal and tucking a strand of hair, which was blonde again, behind her ear.  
  
"Hi," Donna said quietly as she rounded the island. Cameron looked over at her as she filled a glass with water at the sink and then took a delicate sip from it. She was wearing that sleeveless light blue dress that fit her very well and stopped just a few inches shy of her knee, and the black, very high, very pointy heels that she wore when she knew she'd be meeting with a male colleague or contact she didn't like. Her hair, still titian, had gotten long, falling past her shoulders. "Too long and too pretty to really be office appropriate, but I'm the boss now so I can do what I want," was how Donna liked to describe it.  
  
Donna looked at her, and Cameron looked back down at her journal article and searched for the sentence she'd been trying to focus on for the last fifteen minutes. Donna stepped closer, looking curiously at the slow cooker. She breathed in and said, "Smells good. A little different, but good."  
  
"Old clothes," Cameron said, elliptically, still trying to read. "Or, not really, it's Spanish, or Cuban, I think, Bos said? Ropa vieja? It was his idea, he came over before, we went food shopping, and then he did most of the work. I chopped some things."  
  
"Oh, a visit from Bos," Donna smiled. "That sounds like a nice surprise."  
  
Cameron had moved into Donna's house just over a year ago, in October of 1997, after several years of practically living there with her and Haley while she worked with Donna. Almost an entire year after Donna first asked her, Cameron showed up with her truck, overstuffed duffle bag slung over her shoulder, and shrugged, "Why am I putting off going home?" Tears welling up in her eyes, Donna shrugged back, "Exactly."  
  
Donna had observed, over those first months of cohabitation, just how much Cameron didn't like the holidays, and slowly realized that it wasn't cynicism or snobbery. Cameron became quieter, more distant, more restless as November and then December wore on. She also became what might be described as 'clingy', though after years of loneliness, Donna certainly didn't mind Cameron curling up near her like a sleepy, slightly cranky cat at every opportunity. Cameron worked long hours, either locked away in her trailer or office, picked at junk food, stayed up late, either compulsively flipping through channels or playing rounds of various computer or video games, slept late, sometimes after passing out on the couch, and then woke up late in the morning and did it all over again.  
  
Some days instead of working she'd aggressively clean the entire house, even though it was fairly well kept by the cleaning service that came by weekly, and before that Christmas, she'd spent a day finding and unpacking all of Donna's decorations. Donna had come home to find boxes of lights, ornaments and wreaths covering every surface of the kitchen and dining room, and said, "This looks…chaotic." In the middle of unpacking, attempt to cook, and writing code all at once, Cameron had absently replied, "It will pull itself together." After insisting that she didn't need any help, Cameron burned their dinner, setting off a smoke detector. They ordered Thai food that night.  
  
A few weeks after that Haley came home for her winter break, and then Joanie came home in time for Christmas, and Cameron seemed to snap out of it. She fussed over them, made elaborate breakfasts for them, took them on shopping trips and visits to their friends and to her property, and happily decorated the tree with them. Whenever Haley or Joanie spoke, Cameron beamed with pride, and when they laughed or danced or joked with each other Cameron glowed with joy. She loves us, Donna had realized, she's always loved us. It was a revelation and it also felt like the oldest and most obvious news Donna could imagine, and it humbled her, while also inconveniently arousing her slightly. When she heard Cameron laugh loudly for the first time in a month during Christmas Eve dinner, Donna thought, she's gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay.  
  
Cameron closed the journal and turned to look at Donna. "How was your day?" she asked. Donna put down her glass and rushed forward to kiss Cameron gently on the cheek. "It keeps getting better," Donna grinned. Cameron grinned back at her, and then said, "A package for you came in the mail today, a box from Macy's. It's on the table. What is it?"  
  
Delighted, Donna said, "An early Christmas present," as she went to fetch it. She brought it back to Cameron's side of the island and opened it, pulling out a set of extra long long underwear, and then a large, dark blue hooded parka. "Come here, try this on," Donna said. Cameron stepped out from behind the island and obliged, pulling the coat on and zipping it closed.  
  
It was heavily lined, and it was long enough to cover Cameron's knees. It had at least four different pockets, and a drawstring to cinch it at the waist. Donna looked her up and down rather momishly, felt under Cameron's armpits, running her hands appraisingly down Cameron's torso. "It seems to fit, what do you think?"  
  
"I think it seems a little excessive for the San Francisco Bay Area," Cameron said.  
  
"Ah, but it's not for the San Francisco Bay Area," Donna said. "Not this weekend but next weekend, you and me," she pointed at them both for emphasis, "wait for it…" Brow creased with skepticism and also a suppressed smile, Cameron waited. "...Snowshoeing. At. Yosemite!"  
  
Cameron didn't say anything at first.  
  
She struggled with the concept of not working, whether it was for a week long vacation or long enough to go out to dinner or rest, almost as much and as genuinely as she struggled to get through the holidays. After Christmas, and even after Haley had gone back to school and Joanie had embarked on her most recent adventure, Cameron felt better, was better, was more present, was happy to have made it through the holidays.  
  
But Donna noticed how Cameron fixated on writing code, how she obsessed over perfecting it, how she would routinely skip meals, showers, social engagements, sleep, and occasionally even sex to keep obsessing, to tinker more.    
  
Donna had known about all of these habits, Cameron had always worked that way. Donna had been impressed and endeared by it, and even grateful to know another woman who could easily put hours of her life into a machine that might not come to life as expected. But those habits looked very different in the present. Donna spent March of that year trying to ignore how much Cameron's behavior reminded her of Gordon, of his breakdown, and what it had felt like to find Gordon frantically, inexplicably, digging a hole in their backyard. Donna hadn't let herself really think about that even when it happened, and after 15 years of putting it off, it came back to haunt her.  
  
Gordon had seen it, when he worked at Mutiny. He'd seen Cameron's perfectionism and how it overwhelmed her clearly, though Donna hadn't, and had confronted Cameron about it and how it affected Mutiny before Donna had even identified it as a real problem. Sitting in front of her home computer, a few feet away from the Cameron's home office, where she'd been working, door shut and music blasting for several hours, Donna remembered Gordon, at the staff meeting, saying, "But you think that everything is foundational." It had felt less like a memory and more like a warning from a ghost, and it pushed Donna from targeted, on-going concern to real panic.  
  
She waited up for Cameron that night, who crept into the master bedroom at 2 in the morning. "Can't sleep?" Cameron asked her warily.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you," Donna said.  
  
Cameron sat down on the bed and kicked her shoes off, and then pulled her t-shirt and her bra off, and dropped them on the floor.  
  
"I don't think it can wait," Donna said.  
  
"Okay," Cameron sighed, standing up. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, and peeled them off, and left them on the floor too. She considered getting some pajamas, but instead climbed into bed, closed her eyes, and slumped face down into her pillow with another heavy sigh.  
  
Donna moved closer to Cameron. She kissed her shoulder, and touched the back of her neck. Hoarsely, Cameron whispered, "I thought you said you wanted to talk."  
  
Donna pressed her forehead to Cameron's and closed her eyes. In the firmest voice she could summon, Donna said, "You work too hard, and I'm worried about you." She opened her eyes and waited for Cameron to pull away, to argue, to storm out and spend the night on the couch.  
  
She didn't so much as flinch. She opened her eyes and looked at Donna. She took a deep breath and admitted, "Sometimes it's like I don't know how to make myself stop." She exhaled hard and then she continued: "Sometimes I want to stop, I'll think 'I need to stop, I need to shut this thing off' but I can't make myself do it, I just have to keep staring at it, and clicking, even if I'm not doing anything. Sometimes I do that with, I don't know, I'll do that with Tetris. It's like I'm not allowed to stop."  
  
"Sometimes I do that when I'm upset," Donna said. "When I feel like things are out of my control and I can't deal with it. But you do it all the time. You're allowed to stop, you're allowed to take breaks. You don't have to work constantly for it to be enough. You're allowed to take a week off."  
  
"I'll try to not work so hard," Cameron promised.  
  
"I can help, if you want," Donna offered.  
  
"You shouldn't have to," Cameron frowned, "you're not…my mom. That's not your job."  
  
"It's okay, I really don't mind!" Donna cried. "I won't micromanage you, I'll just, I'll check in. For dinner and before bed. And I'll make sure you get out of the house once and a while. If you'll let me."  
  
"That doesn't sound so bad," Cameron said.  
  
So far, it hadn't been so bad. Donna had tried and failed to convince Cameron to take a week-long vacation to a Caribbean island resort, but got her to agree to a compromise: a long weekend at Diane's _other_ other property, a small house on a private nearby beach. Cameron had been surprised by how quickly she'd forgotten about work that weekend. On their second night there, while lying safely in Donna's arms, she said, "I'm not really a beach person, but I think I could get used to how quiet it is here." "We weren't that quiet," Donna smirked. "Nothing but the sound of the ocean and that noise you make when I go down on you," Cameron yawned contentedly. "I fully and officially stand by my original statement."  
  
It got easier from there for both of them to lure Cameron away from her computer. Donna planned a weekend away for them every month, at first to nearby cities: they went to Seattle, where they visited with Dr. Katie Herman, took Haley and her friend Vanessa to Los Angeles for a B-52s concert and the Jurassic Park ride at Universal Studios, and took an impromptu trip to Las Vegas. Cameron grudgingly began to accept that she both felt and worked better after two or three days of not thinking about it.  
  
Donna noticed that while Cameron liked seeing new cities, she'd seemed happier at Mount Rainier, even though the elevation made them both sick, and at Red Rock Canyon, despite the bad sunburn and mild case of heat stroke she came home with. Cameron's favorite excursion by far was their five hour train trip to Yosemite National Park. "It's just not practical," Donna had griped, "the travel cuts into our park time!" But Cameron had found the train relaxing, and fell in love with the first trail they hiked when it ended at a waterfall. "It's like Pilgrim, but better," she'd murmured. "It's what I imagined when I was making the game, but real." Rather than ruin or hijack the moment, Donna had responded by quietly squeezing Cameron's hand. When they went back two months later, Cameron asked, "Can we move here?" Donna was tempted to agree to it, for the look of complete bliss on Cameron's now sun-kissed face.  
  
"Do we have to snowshoe?" Cameron asked. "Can we just like, walk normally?"  
  
"Okay, fine," Donna shrugged. "Winter hiking in Yosemite, then."  
  
"What about Christmas, though?" Cameron asked. She slipped off the coat, laid it gently on the counter, and leaned back against the island.  "Do we really have time for snowshoeing? Or, not snowshoeing?"  
  
"We don't really have much to do, it's just us and the girls this year. I don't know, maybe before Christmas is the perfect time to get away for a few days."  
  
"Well, then, I can't wait," Cameron surrendered.  
  
"Yes!" Donna clapped happily, "you will not regret it!" She turned back to the box, and pulled out a deep red parka, examined it, flipped it over to check the back, and then pulled it on. She put her hands in the pockets, twisted this way and that, showing off the decidedly unshowy, unsexy coat. When Cameron made the same 'Mother, please' face that she usually got from Joanie, Donna put on a very serious face and took a few strident steps forward, turned around, went back, then stepped forward again, let the coat fall off her shoulders and gracefully caught it and draped over a shoulder, which made Cameron laugh.  
  
"'From Geek to Chic: A Biography of Donna Emerson,' Cameron said.  
  
Donna winked at her, as she folded her new coat and put it gently back in its box  
  


***

By 2 that Friday afternoon, Cameron was ready to drive to the park, and waiting for Donna to get home. Cameron had spent the morning going through her half of their pre-road trip routine, while quietly marveling, not for the first time, at how much she liked having a to do list of discrete, relatively simple tasks. Donna had joked more than once that she would made a good housewife, which would have annoyed Cameron had anyone else said it, but found strangely validating, even if she couldn't say why, when Donna said it.

Cameron was slow to leave the coziness of her bed most mornings, but got up promptly if typically late on Yosemite Weekend mornings. She slept until eleven and then threw on yesterday's gray sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, and went into the kitchen and ate two bowls of cereal. Then she ran to the supermarket and bought eggs and bread for next week, and some snacks for the weekend (sensible fruit and granola for Donna, and licorice for herself), and stopped at a gas station to fill the truck's tank.

When she got back to the house she turned on the computer and checked her email, even though she'd answered all her work emails the night before. The only new message was from Haley: "Got the 'here's the number for where we'll be this weekend' email from Mom. Have fun and see you next week, xo Haley." Cameron smiled and quickly wrote back, "Thanks squirt, see you soon -- C". She turned off the computer and went into the master bedroom and pulled out her suitcase, and threw all the clothes she thought she would need, her toothbrush, moisturizer, and deodorant and Donna's favorite vibrator into it before zipping it closed. Then she showered and put on a clean green t-shirt and pair of jeans.

She went back out into the living room, turned on the television and put on the weather channel for a minute -- no rain or snow predicted for that night -- before flipping to MTV and going into the kitchen. While idly singing along to a Foo Fighters video she made a stack of sandwiches from chicken salad that Donna had made the night before, ate one, and wrapped the rest in wax paper, and carefully fit them into Donna's old mini-cooler with an ice pack. She put all the flatware she'd used in the dishwasher and closed it.

She hummed along to the new video Garbage had just put out while she made sure all of the windows and doors were closed and locked, turned down the thermostat, and set the timer for the living room lights. Then she went back into the master bath to dry her hair, with a round brush she'd purchased in secret after watching Donna dry her own hair a few times.

It had taken Cameron more than a few tries, but she'd figured it out eventually, and had felt strangely accomplished after she'd figured out how to maneuver the brush without getting it caught in her hair. It was yet another thing in life that she'd attempted just to see if she could do it, but it was the first thing she'd continued to do because Donna had noticed it, and complimented her for. Donna's attention, and the way she would gaze at her when they went out together, still made Cameron feel a visceral, literally breathtaking sense of relief that she finally belonged to someone who wanted her, and that it was Donna. And so, the twenty minutes it took to dry and smooth her hair became a pre-date ritual.

Cameron was puling a sweater on when she heard the front door open. A few minutes later, a slightly frazzled-looking Donna ran into the bedroom. "I got stuck on a call and lost track of time!" She dropped her coat and her purse onto the bed, and proceeded to attempting to pull off her jewelry and unbutton her blouse at the same time.

"It's okay," Cameron said. "There's no rush. Everything else is packed, I'm ready when you are."

"Oh, really?" Donna stopped. "Oh, that makes me feel better," she sighed, "all I have to do is change my clothes, okay. Thank you for doing all of that."

Cameron picked up their bags. "I'm gonna bring these out to the truck."

"Meet you out there," Donna smiled.

Donna didn't fully relax until they were on the road, and she was munching on her second sandwich. "This is the world's greatest sandwich," she decided, sighing contentedly.

Cameron shot her a sideways glance. "Did you just sigh over your own chicken salad?"

Donna looked down at the sandwich and said, "Oh, I forgot that I made the chicken salad! I was thinking about how it's nice and chilled and wrapped perfectly because you made it and packed it."

Cameron rolled her eyes. Then she said, "You're welcome, you geek."

Three and a half hours later, they were checked into their room at the lodge and napping on the room's queen-sized bed. At 7, they got up and got dressed for dinner; Donna slipped into a long, charcoal grey off-the-shoulder sweater dress and stylish heeled black boots. Cameron put on a white button-down shirt, red sweater vest, black blazer, and dark blue jeans, which somehow went very well with her highly practical rubber rain boots. ("Only you could make the world's ugliest wellies look good," Donna had mused.) Half an hour later, they put on their scarves, hats, gloves, and new parkas and walked to the nearest restaurant, a steakhouse.

They were seated near the dining room's large stone fireplace. After they ordered their entrees, Cameron asked, "What call did you get stuck on? I meant to ask in the car."

Donna sat back in her chair and said, "You know, I barely remember? I do remember that it felt suspiciously like there wasn't any real reason for the call, and that the guy on the other end just wanted an excuse to talk to me." Donna closed her eyes as if exhausted and snorted loudly enough to make Cameron laugh and choke on her beer. "I might have to pull a Diane and start wearing my wedding ring again."

Cameron put down her beer and let her hands fall into her lap. Without thinking too hard about it, she said, "You could also wear a sandwich board that says, 'No thanks, I'm fucking Cameron Howe' to all your meetings."

Eyes narrowed with faux outrage, Donna leaned forward and said, "How _dare_ you. You know very well that I would wear a sandwich board that says, 'No thanks, I'm fucking Cameron Howe' and has a picture of your face on it everywhere if I thought I could accessorize it."

Cameron wanted to laugh, but for some reason didn't. Blushing slightly, she said, "I actually didn't know that."

Donna rested her chin in her hand and looked at Cameron for a long moment. "Now you do," she smiled. She playfully kicked Cameron's foot under the table. Suddenly able to feel her heart pounding furiously in her ears, Cameron smiled back.

It started to snow as they were walking back from the restaurant. Donna noticed some flakes that had fallen on Cameron's shoulder, and then looked around, and suddenly it was snowing heavily. Eyes wide, Donna said, "Huh, it really is romantic. When I was a teenager I remember thinking, how is any kind of weather romantic? I kinda get it now, though."

"It is surprisingly nice for a common weather phenomenon," Cameron agreed.

Back at the lodge, they spent the rest of the evening on the couch closest to the deserted lobby's huge fireplace, drinking mugs of complimentary instant hot chocolate from the lodge's dining room. Looking at her mug much like she'd looked at her sandwich, Donna said, "This is the best instant, non-milk hot chocolate I've ever tasted."

"Um, unpopular opinion but hot chocolate is better with water because milk is weird," Cameron said. "And it does weird things to my sinuses."

"It does? I didn't know that!" Donna said excitedly. "I love when I learn something new about you! Milk is definitely weird, though, it should only be used for hot beverages and cheese."

"I support that policy and would vote for you if you ran for office on that platform," Cameron nodded.

"Did you ever play outside in the snow when you were a kid?" Donna asked.

"Once, in Oklahoma City," Cameron said. "We visited my grandparents one year. There wasn't ever really enough of it in Dallas to justify playing in it, was there?" she asked.

"I know! And it never lasted!" Donna groaned. "You'd get home from school and it would all be melted, and then, suddenly you were 15 and too old for it, and you didn't have friends to have snowball fights with anyway because you were bookish wallflower."

"I've heard the whole childhood playing in snow thing is overrated," Cameron said, kindly. "Adult hiking in the snow is probably more my speed, anyway."

Donna wrinkled her nose. "'Adult hiking in the snow.' That sounds like a very niche kind of erotica."

"You would think that," Cameron snorted. "And you'd probably be into it. Whatever you were at 15, you are definitely not a bookish wallflower now. Not that I'm complaining," she whispered, putting her hand on Donna's thigh. Donna pulled herself closer to Cameron, and silently wondered for the third time that day how she'd gotten so lucky.

***

On Saturday morning, they got up at 9 so they could make the lodge's complimentary breakfast. Cameron inhaled a first plate of scrambled eggs, and was about to get more when Donna returned to the table with a second plate for her. "I don't know how, I just knew," Donna said as she set it in front her. "You're the perfect woman, that's how you knew," Cameron replied groggily. "Well said," Donna smiled broadly.

They spent the rest of the morning hiking Cameron's favorite trail. When they reached the now trickling waterfall, Donna linked her arm around Cameron's and said, "When I played it I thought Pilgrim must have looked like places you went to in Japan. Did you and Tom go hiking there?" Cameron shook her head no. "Really? Not once, in seven years?"

"We were both always busy with work," she said. "For a lot of it we were kind of like roommates who had semi-regular sex, we didn't really hang out. Which isn't the worst set up, but it wasn't sustainable. I wanted more after a while, and so did he, but more to him meant me learning how to cook and entertaining him, and having his kids."

Suddenly nervous, Donna asked, "What about our set up?"

"I love our set up," Cameron smiled. "It doesn't feel like a set up, it feels like what I always wanted. No weird strings or pressure or expectations. I work, you work, you come home, we do stuff, and I go out to my trailer for the day when we have our quarterly big argument."

"That's really enough for you?" Donna asked.

"It's enough. It's also a lot more than that," Cameron reassured her. Then she said, "We both get to just be. Together. No one has ever just let me be as much or as well as you do."

"Well, it took a lot of time and effort for me to learn how to do that, so I'm glad that you appreciate it," Donna said, trying to hold back tears.

"I know, and I do appreciate it. Thank you for thinking I was worth the effort," Cameron squeezed her arm.

They went on a second hike after lunch, while there were still a couple hours of daylight left. They walked slowly, often in blessed, comfortable silence, grateful for each other's company. When they did talk, they laughed at old inside jokes, affectionate imitations of Gordon and Bos, and the many mistakes they'd made during that first year with Mutiny.

They were on their way back to the lodge, sky turning cloudy as the sun began to go down, when Donna let Cameron walk ahead of her.

A few minutes later, Cameron felt something hit the back of her parka with a soft thwack. She turned around to see Donna, ten feet back, smiling innocently, second snowball in her gloved hand.

Melodramatically, Cameron said, "You bitch."

Donna had enough time to stifle a laugh before Cameron ran toward her.

It wasn't cute, nor was it meant to be: an ugly and epic battle ensued, with the two of them taking turns chasing each other and pelting each other with dense, mushy snowballs they haphazardly packed while hiding behind wide trees and the odd rock formation. They stalked each other, taunted each other, drew each other out of hiding, and chased each other again.

It ended after a breathless, unbelievably fun thirty minutes, when Donna popped out from behind a tree and giddily hurled a well-made snowball at Cameron, who was much closer than Donna had guessed, and it somehow hit Cameron directly in the mouth.

Donna panicked to herself -- _oh my God is she okay_ \-- but the unexpected force of it and the shock knocked Cameron off balance, and she stumbled backwards. Donna laughed wildly, immediately felt guilty, and then sprinted over to where she lay inert in the snow.

"Cameron!" Donna shrieked as she rushed to her side. "Are you alr--" She tripped herself and fell directly onto Cameron, who screamed like a trapped animal, which made Donna howl with laughter.

"Why are you trying to end my life?!" Cameron yelled, "Are you laughing, you devil woman? What's wrong with you?!"

Donna was laughing so hard that she couldn't get up. "I'm sorry," she said through tears, "it's not funny, it's not! It just looked really funny, if you'd seen it from where I was standing…."

She calmed down after a minute, and then finally pushed herself up off the ground. She turned back to Cameron to offer her a hand, and saw that Cameron's mouth was covered in blood. Unable to help it, she burst into uncontrollable laughter again. "Okay, I'm sorry," she said, another minute later. By then, Cameron had managed, with great effort and many huffy noises, to hoist herself up and stand up straight. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, saw the red stain on the back of her glove, and felt nauseous.

Donna saw the nauseated, anxious look pass over Cameron's face. "It's okay," Donna said automatically. She grabbed Cameron by the shoulders and looked closely at her face, and then felt the back of her hair. "Did you hit your head? Does anything feel broken?" "I don't think so," Cameron said faintly. "It feels like a nosebleed."

"Okay, let's get back to the lodge." Donna tipped her head back, and took her arm. "Just follow me." They started out slowly, but Donna still promptly walked Cameron face first into a low branch. "It is not funny, at all…" Donna laughed, "…I'm sorry, I can't help it!"

They made it back to their room, and Donna sat Cameron down on the edge of the bed. She grabbed a tissue for Cameron, reminded her to keep her head tilted back, and then shook off her coat, gloves, hat and scarf, and kicked off her snow boots. She helped Cameron out of her coat and shoes, and then asked, "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit in the face a bunch of times," she answered. Donna took the tissue from her and handed her a fresh one, and sat down next to her.

A few minutes later, Cameron said, "I think it stopped." She gingerly straightened up, wiped her nose, looked for fresh blood on the tissue, didn't see any. Donna went into the bathroom, wet a washcloth with warm water, carefully wringing it out. She brought it back out to Cameron. "Here, there's still plenty on your face."

She watched Cameron gently dab away all the dried blood. "Can't take you anywhere, Howe."

"Can't take me?!" Cameron yelped. Donna started to laugh again, and Cameron was suddenly laughing with her.

"I really am sorry," Donna sighed. "I was aiming for your arm, I did not mean to do all that."

"I know you didn't. I also trust that you'll find a way to make it up to me," Cameron said.

Donna took the washcloth from her and got up to bring it back to the bathroom. When she stepped back out of the bathroom, Cameron fell back onto the bed, and winced at how sore her back felt from her earlier fall. "Maybe a hot shower or bath?" Donna suggested glumly.

"What if I sit down in the tub but then I can't get back up?" Cameron whined.

"Then I'll just have the lodge get the park to send over some hot lady rangers to help lift you out," Donna said, as she drew a bath.

Cameron spent half an hour in the tub, and then emerged from the bathroom in a fluffy white lodge robe. She climbed up onto the bed and shifted over onto her back, closed her eyes and let herself rest.

Donna got up and went into the bathroom. "Feeling better?" she called out to Cameron.

"Yes, thank you," Cameron called back, eyes still closed.

Donna stepped quietly back into the bedroom. "I was thinking…" Cameron heard her start.

Cameron opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows, to see Donna standing at the foot of the bed in a very short, red, silky, strappy thing.

"…you and me, exploring the great indoors, tonight," Donna finished, kneeling onto the bed

Cameron stared at her, and then said, "I've never seen you in that."

Donna looked down. "I can change if you want. Or I can take it off…or you can take it off…."

Cameron smiled, "I didn't say I didn't like it. But I can take it off, if that's necessary."

Donna arched an eyebrow and smiled back. She drew a little closer to Cameron, and tugged at the sash on her robe until it fell open. She climbed into her lap, and Cameron sat up to put her arms around Donna's waist and pull her as close as she possibly could.

Donna put arms around Cameron's neck, and said, "So, a small change to the itinerary…."

"You are just full of good ideas," Cameron said, kissing her collarbone.

"I try," Donna said.

***

Later that night, after a pizza from the visitor center's food court, more hot chocolate by the fireplace, and more sex, they were tucked into bed together, Cameron's head on Donna's chest. "What if we retire here?" Cameron asked.

"Retire? You mean like in 20 plus years when we retire from the workforce? I haven't thought that far ahead," Donna said.

"I don't believe that," Cameron said.

"Well, I've thought about it, but not recently. I used to think that I was doomed to die in Texas, while yelling at Gordon." She twisted a strand of Cameron's hair around her finger. It was blonde again, but it was warmer than it had been, and it felt softer. "But then, I met you. And if there is anything I have learned in this ridiculous, unending, life-saving misadventure of running away to California with you and dragging my husband along with us, it's to not take you or the future for granted."

"What if we tentatively plan to retire here, and start saving for like, a forest condo?"

Donna smiled and sighed, "I will buy you as many forest condos as you want, if that's what you'd like."

"What if I sort of wanted you to take me for granted? Or at least consider the possibility of not being able to get rid of me?"

"I could adjust to that reality," Donna said, fingers still in Cameron's hair. "I can also let you go, if you need to go, at some point. You'll always be my partner though."

"Well, I'm definitely not going anywhere until we finish our fight," Cameron said.

Donna's face creased with confusion. "What fight? Oh, what, the snowball fight?! Are you serious?"

"Blood was shed, Donna," Cameron said solemnly. "We have unfinished business."

An unending, life-saving misadventure, Donna thought to herself. She closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of Cameron's quiet, even breathing.

 

***

They woke up early enough the next day for the complimentary brunch, at which Donna helped herself to some extra bagels and cream cheese "for the road",  packed, and then went for one more hike to the waterfall.

Donna stopped along the way to stoop down, pick up several handfuls of snow, and pack it tightly into a ball.  She stood up and handed it to Cameron. "Let's settle this right here, right now," she said.

"Are you sure?" Cameron took the snowball from her.

Donna nodded soberly. "I'm ready." She took several measured steps forward, turned back to face Cameron, stood straight, closed her eyes, and waited.

Wryly, Cameron asked her, "Would you like a last cigarette?" Donna opened an eye and glared at her for a second, then closed it, and went back to attempting to look dignified.

Cameron thought about the forest condo. She walked toward Donna.

Donna waited, and then felt lips press themselves to hers. Only Cameron's lips could be so chapped but feel so soft, but she briefly opened her eyes to make sure it was her. It was.

Cameron tossed the snowball over her shoulder, and put her arms around Donna. She pulled away and said, "Truce?"

"Truce," Donna nodded.

They walked to the waterfall and back, and then they checked out of the lodge, and started the long drive home. Donna drove, and encouraged Cameron to rest. "You're a hero. You ended a war. Relax," she said. Cameron threw a grape at her.

Four hours later, they made it home, brought in their bags, and Donna got straight to unpacking. Cameron put off unpacking to sit cross-legged on the nearest corner of the bed and watch Donna.

"What?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Nothing. You are unpacking very happily," Cameron observed.

"Well, of course I'm happy," she said. "I had a great weekend, with my best friend, I got to be outside, we made it home in one piece. Tonight we get to have that lasagna I left in the freezer for dinner and relax. Tomorrow I get to go to a job I love. In a few days the girls will be here, and then it will be Christmas. I'm really lucky," she said. "We're really lucky."

Cameron watched Donna put her suitcase back in the closet. "Do you ever think about getting married?"

Donna laughed ruefully. "Oh, sure I have. I've thought a lot about how I don't have to be married to a man ever again."

Cameron watched as Donna shut a drawer. "What if you could marry me?"

"Can we do that?" Donna asked.

"I don't know. I think it depends on what state you're in, but here, or in San Francisco we could maybe do that," Cameron said.

"We'd have to look into it. We'd have to figure some things out, decide where to live, consider how it would affect our work together, and how it would impact us both professionally," Donna said. "It might not be the right thing to do."

"Right," Cameron said. "I can have that conversation. If you want to."

Donna looked at her. "Do you really want to be married again? Or are you just worried that we'll push each other away again?"

"I think this might be the first time I've ever really wanted to be married," Cameron said.

Donna took a few steps closer to the bed. "Really?" she said.

"I used to wish I could be your husband," Cameron said. "In Texas. It didn't seem like it would be that hard to do a better job of it than Gordon. I wanted to whisk you away from him and how alone he made you feel. Now you whisk me away, though," she smiled.

"Oh, Cam," Donna sighed.

"We're not gonna do anything stupid, right?" Cameron looked up at her. Her voice sounded small, and her eyes looked wet. "We already broke up, we've done that, we know better now. We're not gonna do that to each other again, right?" she asked.

"I too am hopeful that we are older and wiser," Donna said. Then she said, "Marriage certificate isn't what keeps people around, you know."

"I know," Cameron said.

"What will keep me around is how you make me feel." Donna was standing right in front of Cameron now.

"How do I make you feel?" she asked. She both knew and didn't know how she made Donna feel, what she did to make her life better.

Donna smiled rakishly at her. "You make me feel like I don't have to apologize for anything I am. You make me feel like I'm not just faking it, like I'm brilliant and wild and could never get tired or fail at anything."

"You are brilliant, with or without me," she said. "And you're definitely wild. You almost took me out yesterday with a snowball."

"I'm really never gonna hear the end of that, am I?"

"Probably not," Cameron said.

"I think I can live with that," Donna grinned.

"Will you do me the honor of discussing the possibility of marrying me?" Cameron asked.

Donna jumped onto the bed and into Cameron's arms, saying, "Yes, yes, a million times yes!" She kissed her face wherever she could, knocking her over gently. "Let's talk about possibly getting married."

Cameron looked up at Donna and thought to herself that she'd be happy with whatever they decided. She felt sure that they would figure it out, whatever it wound up being.


End file.
